


i could use a little help here

by formulaggs (kosmokuns)



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sort Of, and george and alex make it better, bad things happen to charles, bc they cute, but really this is all platonic, there's a hint of 2019 rookies spice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:55:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27014629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kosmokuns/pseuds/formulaggs
Summary: In front of his mirror now, he’s starting to regret his process for handling problems. He’s leaning on the sink, hands turning white from supporting his body, his chest is heaving up and down, sharp, shaky breaths echoing around the bathroom, and when he looks at his reflection he’s white as snow, Southern European tan banished from his skin.alternatively:charles is going through stuff at ferrari and george comes to look after him.
Relationships: Alexander Albon & Charles Leclerc, Charles Leclerc & George Russell
Kudos: 39





	i could use a little help here

Charles has always been a follower, he doesn’t like moving around or not having a clear next step, in his career or in his personal life. From Sauber there was always Ferrari, from Giada there was always Charlotte. He wouldn’t have left either without knowing the other was right there for him to take. The issue that comes with this is that he’s easier to take advantage off. Getting stuck in one place and not being able to move on because he doesn’t like the unknown has left him in situations he’d rather not be in more than once. However, because of his unwillingness to change his habits, the way he deals with things when bad things happen hasn’t changed since he was about ten years old. It’s simple – he just doesn’t tell anyone; he leaves it be and hopes time will brush it away.

In front of his mirror now, he’s starting to regret his process for handling problems. He’s leaning on the sink, hands turning white from supporting his body, his chest is heaving up and down, sharp, shaky breaths echoing around the bathroom, and when he looks at his reflection he’s white as snow, Southern European tan banished from his skin. It makes the bags under his eyes more pronounced, the years with Ferrari, the stress of the name, seem to have been carved into his face with a blunt knife. His eyes fall to his lips and the red dotted in the sink, his lower lip cut from the impact of a brutish fist and blood spattered onto the porcelain where he’s spat it out, attempting to get rid of the metallic taste from his mouth. A dark swirling stormy bruise rises from his jaw across his left cheek, edges of it fading onto his cheekbone, shadowing half of his face.

He feels wretched.

He’s never been able to fight back.

A knock at the door jerks him out of his reverie and he stumbles off the sink and crashes into the wall, the force sending him flying to the ground. He winces and grabs at his shoulder,

“Charles?” It’s Seb, soft accent spiking the ar in his name, “Charles, are you alright?” Involuntarily he groans in response. “Can I come in? Just to make sure you’re okay, you’ve been in there for a while.”

“No,” He manages, panicking, “Don’t come in, I’m fine in here.”

“It’s okay if you aren’t,” Seb says quietly, Charles imagines there’s other people around, that Seb’s trying to keep his dignity intact for him. When Charles doesn’t respond, he tries a different tack, “I can call someone for you?”

His mind first conjures up a picture of George, smile lighting up his face, then it slides Alex in next to him, grinning just as wide. He’s a racing driver, he trusts his instincts.

“George, and ask him to bring Alex, please?” Charles replies and he hears Seb breathe out his relief,

“For sure, anything else you need?” Charles looks around him, sitting on the floor in a bathroom in the Ferrari motorhome there isn’t much that isn’t in here.

“No, no I think I’m okay,”

“Okay, if you say so, I’m going to call George, shout if you need anything.” He hears Seb’s footsteps fade away from the door and he releases the tension from his body, shoulders slumping forward. He inhales deeply and tries not to allow panic to take hold.

A few minutes later he hears two sets of footsteps coming briskly up the corridor to the door, there’s a few quiet mumblings and then a knock on the door.

“Hi Charles,” George says, keeping his voice low, “Could you let me in to have a look at you?” Charles whimpers and George edges closer to the door, kneeling down on his hunches, “Just unlock the door and we can solve this together, okay?”

“I -I can’t,” Charles stutters, tears welling in his eyes, “I fell.”

“Yes you can, Charlie, reach up and turn it, that’s all you’ve got to do. I believe in you,” George encourages. He sounds warm, he sounds grounded, he sounds like everything Charles wants, so slowly he stretches his arm up and turns the lock, it clicks open and the latch slides back.

“That’s perfect, I’m going to come in now.” George opens the door and steps in, shutting it quietly behind him. He looks down to his right and sees Charles with his knees up near his chest, struggling to keep his breathing even and he makes a soft noise of sympathy. Kneeling down, he stretches out Charles’ legs and opens his arms for Charles to hug him and he dives forward into his arms. George closes them tightly around his back, pressing him close into his chest. Tears spill over and onto his shoulder as Charles lets out a small sob. “It’s okay,” George whispers, “I’ve got you.” By the time Charles is done, George’s jumper and shirt are soaked through to his skin and Charles feels weariness tugging his eyelids shut. George lets out a little laugh, “Crying tired you out, hmm?” Charles wipes the tears from his eyes and nods,

“Feel awful,” He says “Everything hurts, just wanna go to sleep.” George rubs his bicep,

“I bet you do, I bet you do, but let’s clean this blood off you first,” He responds. Charles notices the lack of Alex and he frowns,

“Where’s Alex?”

“Gone to your hotel room to get your bed ready, we’ll see him in a moment, I promise.”

Satisfied for the minute, he lets George pull him up and stand him next to the sink. George wets a cloth and presses it to his, gently scrubbing to pull the crusting blood of his skin. Wincing when it goes over the bruise, he tugs on George’s shirt every time, who mutters a quiet apology.

The blood stains the red cloth a darker shade and the dried pieces get washed away down the sink under George’s careful eye. The bruises are ignored for the time being. The gentleness of George makes him want to cry again but he doesn’t, he saves the tears for another day.

“There you go, all clean,” George boops him on the nose with the flannel and he wrinkles his face in disgust. The action startles a giggle out of George, “You’ll ruin your Armani looks if you keep doing that,” He says with a wink. Charles flushes a light pink and ducks his head, George is a flirt and he’s always flirted with Charles ever since they were teenagers, but even now, it still gets him. Maybe it’s because George is ridiculously handsome, maybe it’s because he feels so alone. Maybe it’s both, he doesn’t think about it.

“Thank you,” Charles gives him a weak smile. George puts his arm around his shoulder and steers him out of the room,

“Of course, mate, always.”

They weave their way through the paddock quickly and dart round the corner out of the track into the hotel they’re all staying in. They take the lift alone, Charles not moving from under George’s arm. His eyes are drooping, and his bed is tantalisingly close. The ride up is short and his room isn’t too far down the corridor.

George knocks once and the door is flung open, Alex standing red in the face in the doorway.

“Hey,” He says, stepping to one side to let them in. He shuts the door and locks it quicky, ushering them further in. George gently moves Charles into Alex’s side,

“I’m going to get some water,” He explains and gives Alex a look over the mop of Charles’ hair, Alex nods. Charles has always envied their wordless conversations, the product of a childhood spent entirely with each other.

“Let’s get you to bed,” Alex squeezes his hand and leads him to the bed. Charles strips off his shirt and jeans and pulls a large t-shirt over his head that smells suspiciously of Lando’s overpowering deodorant. He raises an eyebrow at Alex who shrugs,

“We’ve been spending time together the three of us again recently, clothes have got a bit switched up,” He licks his lips and Charles lets him off the hook, not minding the scent.

He climbs into bed and Alex turns off the light, “We’ll be just around the corner if you need us.”

**Author's Note:**

> hi everyone, hope you all enjoyed this as much as i did writing it. leave a kudos if you liked it and please come say hi and tell me ur favourite part in the comments, i love them so much!!
> 
> stay safe x
> 
> my [tumblr](https://toofarovertherainbow.tumblr.com/)


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